Wrong Number
by The Lady Cloudy
Summary: Something strange is going on with the team; between the recent murder of a petty officer and the mysterious person who continues to call Ziva. Will the team be able to figure out what's going and who it is who's harassing one of their own? Tiva.
1. Chapter 1

**Wrong Number**

**Chapter One**

* * *

The autumn night was crisp and cloudy, with only several rays of moonlight illuminating the dead leaf filled street. Cool breezes whisked leaves into the air creating a vortex of reds, browns, yellows, and oranges that flew in the air around the couple walking down the street. The woman's dark brown curls flew around her hair, momentarily obscuring her vision as it covered her hazel eyes. She laughed and pushed the fly-away strands away from her face as she continued to smile at the man walking beside her. He was handsome and young with close cropped black hair. Both wore matching smiles of ignorant, blissful, happiness.

"I have to send someone a message," the woman said in an unidentifiable accent as she drew her small black cell phone out from her purse. She had an iPhone, as did so many other people in the world. Her fingers swiftly typed out the message and then she clicked '_send_' before dropping her phone back into her purse. She smiled up at the man she was walking with as her hand slipped into his and she gently pressed her lips to his cheek.

"I'm so glad we get to spend this time together, away from the base," he said as he put an arm around the dark haired woman and pulled her close. They continued walking, only slightly more slowly than before, down the street and their footsteps, muffled by leaves, was the only sound aside from the wind.

"Me too," she said and her lips held a delighted smile. Her hazel eyes twinkled in the moonlight as the headlights of a car swung around the corner and glared right at the two of them. Neither person seemed to care that the people in the car could see them as the man leaned down to press his lips against hers. Oblivious to the world neither saw the gun be drawn and only when it was too late did they realize the shot had even been fired. As the man slumped to the ground, blood spilling from the hole in his head, the woman took off running. Even in heels she was fast and there was cat-like grace in the way she moved. Dark curls streamed behind her, flapping like a flag in the wind, as she tore across someone's lawn and hopped the fence. After the shot had been fired something in the woman's very posture had changed to become straighter and trained. Her movements had been quick and efficient, obviously like she had hopped many fences in the past. And, never once, had she looked back at the man lying on the sidewalk, dead.

Someone inside the car swore as they hid the gun and drove off in search of the woman. Whatever they had said had most definitely not been in English.

* * *

Ziva sat behind her desk working diligently to finish up last week's paperwork before anyone else arrived that morning. She had come in close to five in the morning after she had woken up and remembered the paperwork had to be completed and turned in later that same morning. Already she was on her third cup of coffee and was beginning to wonder how much longer she had till she became as protective of her coffee as Gibbs was. Dark circles accented her deep brown eyes and everything about her looked tired. Her shoulders sagged, her hair was slightly disheveled, and she'd forgotten to put on make-up that morning. All this paperwork was really driving her crazy.

"Morning Zee-vah," Tony said, not really looking at her as he walked to his own desk and set down his things. After everything he had brought with him was put away he looked up at his college, smiling. Once he saw her exhausted sleep deprived face he winced, causing her to glance up at him. "You look awful," he pointed out.

"Is this your new strategy on how to pick up women, Tony?" Ziva asked tiredly in a slightly annoyed tone as she brushed several flyaway strands of hair back behind her ear. "Because I honestly do not see the angle."

"No, you just look awful," Tony said bluntly. "Did you even brush your hair this morning?"

"I just didn't straighten it," Ziva sighed as she brushed more of her wild curls out of her face and then finally pulled it all back into a ponytail. She sighed and went back to her paperwork as Tony logged onto his computer. As she continued working Tony looked up several times to see if Ziva really looked that tired. He had missed seeing her hairy curly, even if it was pulled back into a ponytail. Personally, he'd always found her more beautiful when she left her hair dark and very curly. With it lightened and straightened it made her seem too much like the woman who had gone out with CI-Ray, kissed Ray, loved Ray. Tony thought that he was actually going to throw a party when he heard the "sad" news of Ziva an Ray's break up.

"Something wrong?" Tony asked. Even after her and Ray's break-up, Ziva had always looked normal and like she was taking care of herself. She had never struck Tony as type of girl who would let herself fall apart after a break up. And her and Ray had broken up several weeks ago so it wouldn't make since for Ziva to fall apart now.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" Ziva countered as her phone started to vibrate on her desk. She ignored it and continued working on the paperwork she desperately needed to finish as soon as possible. Tony was slightly taken aback by the question, he had no idea that she had been looking at him. She hadn't even looked up at him when she said it as she furiously typed away at her keyboard.

"I don't keep looking at you," Tony lied.

"Yes you do," Ziva argued as she continued typing.

"Do to," Tony said.

"You are being childish Tony," Ziva accused him with a sigh as she continued doing paperwork and doing her best to ignore Tony. She was busy and he was being rather annoying this morning.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Tony joked. This time Ziva looked up at him, a confused expression moving her features. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked upwards slightly as she thought, trying to understand what Tony meant. American idioms and expressions had never been her forte per se.

"The left side of the bed is the wrong side of the bed?" Ziva asked.

"It means that you're cranky," Tony explained with a sigh. "You sleep on the left side of the bed?" he asked, thinking about what she had said.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ziva said with a hint of mischief creeping into her eyes and a wicked smile dancing across her lips. She rolled her eyes and went back to her paperwork.

"Maybe," Tony replied coyly.

"Morning Tony. Morning Ziva," McGee said as he walked past them towards his own desk. Tony was still smiling that I'm-about-to-mess-with-McGee smile that he always got right before he pulled a prank on McGee.

"Gear up, we got a dead marine," Gibbs announced as he strolled into the bullpen, coffee in hand. Tony sighed and picked up his things. McGee hadn't had the chance to sit down and adjusted his grip on his bag. Ziva typed out a few more words and signed something before getting everything together and getting ready to leave.

"Something up?" Gibbs asked Ziva when they got into the elevator. She and Gibbs were standing in the front of the elevator with McGee and Tony behind them. The ex-Mossad officer stood there, looking impassively at the door as she waited for them to open and for the awkward silence to be broken. It was just now that she was starting to realize how much of a mess she looked if all the people she worked with were commenting on it.

"No," Ziva lied easily, glad that she was practiced liar. Aware that someone was staring at her she leaned back and moved closer to Tony. He was blushing slightly and quickly looked away from the smug looking Israeli.

"Yes, Ziva?" He asked.

"Please stop staring at my ass," Ziva said and quickly walked out of the elevator and towards the parking lot. "I will drive!" she announced.

"Oh, no," McGee gulped.

"I'd rather walk," Tony said in a fearful tone.

* * *

In the end, Tony wound up driving after he and McGee managed to talk Ziva out of it while still avoiding saying outright that she was a terrible driver. They instead claimed that it was because she looked too tired to safely drive. Being tired she didn't put up too much of a fight, which for Ziva is the amount of fight a normal person puts up when they aren't being allowed to drive. She sat in the back with McGee and checked her text messages. McGee noticed that the first message she read made all the color drain from her face and she spent the rest of the car ride cradling her phone to her chest as she stared out of the window. Even Tony realized that something was wrong, aside from the exhaustion.

"Who is he?" Ziva asked in a quiet almost whisper that was very uncharacteristic of her as she looked down at the blood stained face of a once handsome man with close cropped black hair and lifeless green eyes. There was still a blissfully happy smile on his lips that suggested something had made him very happy before death and swept him away.

"Petty Officer Ethan Cooper," Gibbs reported as Ziva began to snap pictures of the crime scene. It was a quiet suburban street scattered with leaves and aside from the bullet, several frazzled suburban couples, and some possible security footage there wasn't very much to go on. The footage still had to be examined and Tony was talking to the couple who owned the house closest to where Petty Officer Cooper had been shot.

Tony walked back over to Ziva, McGee, and Gibbs. Suddenly, Ziva's phone went off again and she pulled it out of her pocket to read the text that someone had sent to her. He looked over her shoulder and tried to catch a glimpse of what she was reading. All he managed to get a look at "**_I've missed you—"_**and this made him wonder just who was texting his Israeli co-worker. Before Tony could read anymore she snapped her phone closed and showed it back into her pocket as her face became emotionless and cold. "Who's texting you? A boyfriend?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"No, it's just a wrong number," Ziva sighed as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone then turned it off before replacing it in her pocket. She seemed older when she was tired and somewhat more mortal than she seemed to be. The smile she flashed at Tony, but it was forced and week as she went back to work.

"Oh, how many texts have you gotten?" Tony inquired casually as he decided to help her take pictures of the crime scene and let McGee take over speaking with the witnesses. Gibbs was talking with Ducky and Palmer, who had just arrived.

"Two," Ziva replied curtly.

"Other than that one?" he asked, prying.

"Including that one," she sighed in annoyance as she tried to keep focused on work but between work, the paperwork that awaited her, and Tony pestering her she was starting to have difficulty focusing.

"You sure you're okay?" Tony asked in a concerned tone. She was starting to look sick with the dark circles under her eyes and her pale skin. She seemed distant and it was starting to worry him greatly.

"I am fine, Tony," Ziva lied as she started to cough.

"Do you have a cough, my dear?" Ducky asked as he walked past the two of them towards the body of Petty Officer Cooper.

"I have been feeling rather sick lately," Ziva admitted.

"Perhaps you should get some rest," Ducky suggested as he looked over Cooper.

Ziva thought for a moment and shook her head. "I have too much work to do," she said and coughed again.

* * *

Across the street from the NCIS investigation, several people from the neighborhood stood watching from behind the police line. Housewives in modest outfits stood, chattering nervously as they wondered about how this would affect property values in the coming years. The three—two boys and a girl—teenagers in the crowd were regarded with slight suspicion and had formed into a tight group. One of the boys picked up his skateboard as the other put his arm around the waist of the girl. A few men stood in the crowd, most of them talking about how they were going to beef up security soon. Children stood right on the edge of police lines, the younger ones jumping up and down to get a better view of the investigation. Away from the rest of the watchers was a young woman, who didn't look like she lived around their.

Her dark hair was pinned up in a tight bun, but a few strands of wild curls had escaped and were blowing in the wind. Behind her dark sunglasses, tears shone in her eyes as she watched the investigators take pictures of the crime scene. In her trembling hands, was a cell phone that she was rapidly typing a text message on. She turned away and started to walk away after another moment of watching the investigation. One in particular seemed to interest her and as she tore her gaze away, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Biting her lower lip, she wiped the tear away and strode off, stuffing her phone into her pocket as she hurried down the street, not looking back. No one looked after her except for the teenage girl with scene style bangs and honey blonde hair. Confusion flickered across her face as she realized that the woman in the long black coat was not from the neighborhood. For a moment, she considered telling someone about the strange sight but decided against it. It would only make people notice her more, which with all the attention that was on her and her friends now, was not a good thing. She knew the suspicious looks from other families were because they believed she and her friends were responsible. Everyone always blames the teenagers after all. Especially, if they have a history of rebellion and the entire neighborhood has blamed them for crimes in the past.

She glanced up at her boyfriend and stayed silent, thinking: _telling won't be worth it._

* * *

**A/N: I hoped you enjoyed my first chapter of "Wrong Number" and I very much appreciate reviews.**_  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Wrong Number**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"What've you got?" Gibbs asked as he strolled into the bullpen and straight up to Tony's desk. (Very) Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had been in-charge of speaking with the two 'witnesses' of the event—a couple named Marcus and Julia Mason, who lived in the house in front of which Petty Officer Cooper had been shot. Footage from their security camera was being scanned down in Abby's lab, but Mrs. Mason claimed to have seen, what she reported as, "a disturbed young woman running through my azaleas." Mrs. Mason was supposed to come in to talk with a sketch artist to see if they could get a picture of the woman who had fled the scene of the crime moments after Cooper had been shot.

"A hair was lifted from Petty Officer Cooper's jacket and Abby says she'll have the DNA soon," Ziva reported as she glanced up from her work and punctuated the sentence with yet another fit of coughing. A worried expression flickered across Tony's features as the ex-Mossad officer violently coughed much more than she usually had. The cough had started as a little tickle in her throat almost a week ago and now it had become a horrible hacking cough. She was still hoping that it would go away with time, but so far that hope had been dashed.

"The Masons' video camera caught someone running away from the scene, but the quality of the film isn't good enough for us to run a facial recognition scan. That and the camera didn't catch the suspect's face on camera." McGee said as he barely glanced up from his computer screen and then looked back to the computer. He flinched a little when Ziva coughed, hoping that he wouldn't get sick.

"What have we got on the suspect?" Gibbs asked, turning to McGee.

"Nothing yet other than female, mid-twenties," McGee said wishing that there was more he had been able to find but the camera was old and the video quality was poor. Not even with McGee's vast knowledge of computers and technology he simply couldn't find a way to enhance the image. Everything he'd tried had only failed.

Gibbs glanced back over to DiNozzo, "When's Mrs. Mason scheduled to arrive?" he asked.

Almost as if on cue a smallish woman stepped out of the elevator. She had immaculately groomed bottle blonde hair without so much as a strand out of place. With the amount of make-up on her face it was impossible to ignore just how fake she looked. Even though her eyes held confusion, this didn't spread to the rest of her face. In fact, her face was so heavily Botox-ed it was almost impossible for her to make any expression at all. It was obvious, no matter how hard she tried to hid it, that she was in her fifties and the amount of plastic surgery really showed.

"Excuse me?" The short woman said in an annoying, condescending tone that sounded as if she was talking to a room full of impudent children rather than NCIS agents. She walked into the bullpen, ridiculously high heels _clicking _with every step she took. With her short legs and the brisk pace she kept there was a constant _click, click, click, click._

As the woman passed by them Ziva raised a questioning eyebrow at Tony and mouthed _who is that? _

_Mrs. Mason, _Tony mouthed back.

"Special Agent DiNardo!" Mrs. Mason exclaimed, rounding on Tony and forcing a smile onto her typically still face. Across from him, Ziva leaned back in her chair holding back laughter as the older woman pretty much hugged Tony from across the desk. Tony gagged at the rancid smell of Mrs. Mason's awful smelling pungent perfume. He was forced to hold his breath until the short woman let him go and straightened up, fixing her gray skirt and powder blue blouse, even though both looked perfectly fine.

"Actually, it's Special Agent DiNozzo," Tony corrected her.

"That's what I said," Mrs. Mason insisted and glared down at Tony.

"Let me show you where the sketch artist is," McGee offered, taking Mrs. Mason's arm in his hand and gently leading her away.

"We are….trusting her to….identify a killer?" Ziva asked, pausing several times to cough and then finished her question with yet another violent coughing fit. She doubled over and then straightened before blowing her nose. Lately, she'd started to develop a bit of a cold as well as her already present cough.

"Maybe you should go home," Tony suggested with a surprising amount of concern in his voice when he spoke to her. She sighed and shook her head, then got back to work.

* * *

"You got something Abbs?" Gibbs asked as he walked into her lab at almost the exact moment she actually found something. Downing another sip of Caf-Pow, Abby glance up at the monitor and smiled.

"Yep," Abby replied, smiling widely. "Just about to. I'm checking the DNA from the hair found on Petty Officer Cooper's chest and I should have a match in the next couple of seconds.

A photograph and a name flashed onto the screen and just at that moment everything went black as the power went out. Moments later the lights flickered on as the back-up generator kicked in, but it was too late the computers had shut off and the result had been lost.

* * *

An average sized dark haired woman with a lithe build and long legs breezed right back out of the front door of NCIS, just like how she had walked in. In her black button-up coat she had slipped right in with a crowd of people and slipped out just as easily. It was almost too easy. Of course, she had done this before and was practiced at assimilating into a crowd and going places without being detected. She'd taken note of the cameras and kept her head covered with a hood and reflective sunglasses. With very common dark brown hair she'd easily joined the group of NCIS agents and then left with another group. She nearly laughed as she walked out of the door.

_So easy, _she thought, smirking as she pulled off her sunglasses and soaked up some of the fall sunlight. It wasn't a very warm day and the brisk breeze was chilly, yet the sun was warm and she was comfortable in her coat. _It was almost a joke to get in there and cause that little….accident._

The power would be back on soon, she knew, and it would be nearly impossible to trace the incident back to her. Anyways, only one person in the entire NCIS building knew her and they thought she was beyond meeting again. Oh, how wrong they were.

Her phone buzzed with a text as she walked out onto the main street and she took it out, reading the text quickly: _"You have to prove it to me. Can you meet me for coffee at Café Europa at four thirty this afternoon?" _

Typing rapidly, her fingers danced across the keyboard, typing out her reply message: _**"**I can't, it's too public for me. Sorry. How about I drop by your place in about twenty minutes? I'm not that far away. Meet me there. I promise that I'll explain everything when I get there."_

* * *

"When do you….." Ziva began coughing too hard to speak and she doubled over in her chair before she could finish her question. Her cough had gone from wet to dry and it was starting to hurt her throat. She looked tired as she sat up again and her hair seemed slightly disheveled. Everything about her, from the dull look in her eyes to the way her shoulders sagged, seemed to scream that she was sick. Tony looked worriedly over at her as she reached for the box of tissues on her desk then blew her nose. As the day progressed she had started to look sicker and it was worrying Tony that she might have a fever of some kind.

"When do I do what?" Tony asked as he pretended to be busy with paperwork so she would not think he had been staring at her. She wiped off her nose to clean off a little bit of snot that was dripping out of it. McGee had chosen to stay out of it and try to go a day without having Tony refer to him as McGeek. The nickname was starting to bother him for some reason. He'd thought that by now Tony could, maybe, accept him as an equal and not treat him like a probie.

"When do you think that sketch will be done?" Ziva asked as she wiped her nose again, just to be sure.

"I'm not sure. Why?" Tony he countered with another question.

She was about to answer when her phone started to vibrate. Almost a little bit too quickly, Ziva fished it out of her purse and read the text. As she read her face lost what little color it had retained and her hands shook as she held the phone. It almost slipped from her fingers and she looked like she was going to be sick.

"I need to go home," Ziva said as she started for the elevator.

Tony quickly got up and blocked her way. "I hate to break it to you, but you can't drive well while you're healthy and I don't want people to die because you were driving while you're sick. Let me drive you home." He offered, genuine concern filling his voice and allof his typically joking manner gone.

"No, Tony, that is a bad idea." Ziva snapped, getting very angry faster than she normally would, especially with Tony. He always made her patience wear thin, but never like this. "I…have something I need to do on my own. Something you cannot be there for."

"Look, Ziva, I don't want you to get hurt. Just let me drive you home, it's not like I'm going to walk into your apartment or anything. And when you're feeling better, I'll give you a ride to work so you and get your car."

Ziva shook her head and sighed; "Fine. Let us go, but if you try anything and I will show you one of those eighteen different ways I can kill you with a paperclip."

Tony let out a sigh and took her by the arm, leading her into the elevator as she doubled over from another coughing bout. He held her tighter, pulling her towards him, to make sure she didn't fall over and do any damage to herself. The elevator doors slid shut with a whoosh and with a jerk it started downwards, smoothly until it stopped with another jerk. The doors opened with a bing and Tony helped Ziva out of the elevator.

A shudder passed through the body of the slight Israeli girl as she stepped out from the NCIS building, into the chill of the autumn afternoon. Leaves blew across the parking lot in a rainbow of reds, oranges, and yellows. Occasionally, they would spin into miniature cycles and whirl around the parking lot, doing no damage other than tossing about the empty plastic bags. Cold layered the air, having not yet been expelled by the sun, which was masked by a veil of cloud cover. Early in the morning, sparse white clouds dotted the sky like cotton balls dancing across the sky. In a matter of hours, those had been replaced by dark, ominous storm clouds that spoke of impending rain.

"Do you want my coat?" Tony asked in a very uncharacteristic manner as together they made their way towards his car. She shook her head, not ready to stoop to that low yet. Had it been any other man, she may have considered taking the coat. But not Tony. He would never let her here the end of it. Ziva could almost hear his voice ringing in her ears, saying "oh, how the mighty have fallen." She shuddered at the mere thought, only succeeding in provoking more concern from her partner.

"I'll make sure to turn up the heat in the car for you so you can get a little bit warmed up on the drive. The last thing we need is you getting any sicker than you already are," Tony fretted, hardly seeming himself. Mentally, Ziva noted the fact of how Tony, didn't seem very much like Tony at the moment. He was polite; holding doors open for her, refraining from wise cracking, and all together acting in a very…normal manner. Normal just wasn't the norm for Tony; thus, the self-proclaimed title of "special" agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Ziva coughed again before asking: "are you sure that you are not getting sick? You are not acting like yourself? I might be contagious…"

"Don't worry about it," Tony told her as he held open the passenger side door for her, closing it after she got in. "Just focus on getting better."

Tony walked through a cyclone of leaves as he made his way to the other side of the car before getting in. For the most part, the first few minutes passed in almost complete silence aside from each time Ziva lapsed into another coughing fit. Several minutes away from her apartment, her phone buzzed again. It seemed as though it had been ringing off the hook all of that morning, Tony noted.

She grabbed for it frantically, reacting within mere milliseconds of when the buzzing started. Tony stole a glance over at her, but she'd pulled it up against her, angled so that Tony couldn't see what she was typing. Just between that morning and the present, Ziva's texting speed had tripled with a frantic urgency. Tony knew that typically she was never able to type that fast and normally it took her a great deal longer to respond.

"Who's that?" Tony asked the curiosity obvious in his voice.

"Just a friend," Ziva lied as she looked down at the little screen in front of her.

"_I'm waiting inside. Remember what we learned about how to pick locks. Turns out that does come in handy at times. When will you be here?**"**_ A text from an anonymous number said, the black text glaring against the little white screen.

"_I'll be there soon." _Ziva had written.

Another text came back soon, within seconds; _"Come alone."_

* * *

**A/N: A huge thanks to dvd123, Guest, Eni01, reio, CityPlanetProductions, TayRay, CestTuSavais, pacificbluegirl, NCIS Tiva Fan Forever, prince-bishop, and pirate-princess1 for reviewing. A round of applause for everyone who added this story to their favorites or alerts list, I really appreciate it. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Wrong Number**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

On the final stretch of the car trip to Ziva's apartment, exhaustion finally got the better of her and she allowed sleep to enfold her in its embrace. Even though she was asleep, her phone continued to buzz even more than before. As soon as they parked outside of her apartment, Tony sneaked his hand into Ziva's purse and took her phone. An incessantly buzzing cell phone wouldn't do her any good, he figured as he slid it into his coat pocket.

"Hey, uh, we're here…" Tony said nervously, lightly tapping her on the shoulder but quickly pulled his hand back. Touching her while was awake could be a dangerous risk. While she was asleep, the consequences could be even more severe. Especially if she was in a bad mood, which was why the idea of carrying her to apartment was right up there with jumping off the NCIS building. He never even wanted to know what would happen.

"What?" Her voice was heavy with sleep and the word almost came out a slur. She straightened in her seat, with a degree of reluctance, and yawned.

"We're outside your apartment," Tony explained, anxiety lacing his voice as he watched her stretch in her seat. Her curls had spilled out of the ponytail she'd worn them in this morning and hung loosely around her shoulders. With the angle of the sunlight, she was almost silhouetted and it lightened her hair slightly, something he thought suited her. But, then again, he thought almost any color would look good on her.

"Oh, thank you, I think that I can get up to my apartment without any help. You've been wonderful so far," Ziva said, sleepily as she unconsciously leaned forward towards Tony as though she was going to kiss Tony. Slowly, she shook her head slightly and moved back, a little surprised with herself. Tony's lips tingled as though she had kissed him just from the proximity. He'd seen that look in her eyes before, when they'd gone undercover as a married couple and that first time they'd kissed. For her, he knew it had all been an act. Or that's at least how she passed it off whenever he brought it up. Tony suspected they both held mixed feelings towards that time.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked him. "I think that maybe I should go with you up to your apartment, just in case."

"No!" Ziva snapped, a little too quickly that it surprised even her. Tony pulled away as though he'd been physically struck by her words. She turned away, sorrow and anxiety mixed in her eyes. Wordlessly, she climbed out of the car. Icy fall air, as cold as her tone, rushed into the car to replace her. Sitting in the chill, Tony watched as she rushed into the apartment in a flurry of windblown hair and wild eyes. Something was wrong, he'd known her long enough to understand that and he thought he had an idea of just what it was.

In his coat pocket, Ziva's phone buzzed and a wave of guilt washed over him as he leaned across the car to close the passenger side door. The smell of her shampoo—a tangerine citrus that was as sweet, but tough as she was—still clung to the seat mixed with the chamomile tea he knew she loved. For her birthday, last year, he'd bought her a package of the tea from a little shop he'd taken a long time to find. Since then, she'd been hooked. He'd first figured it out when she asked him where he'd gotten in and directions for how to get there. The fact the smell of it seemed to always mingle with the minty tooth paste smell was always on her breath.

Guilt eating away at his insides, he slid out the phone and unlocked it, letting out a sigh of relief that she didn't have a pass code on her phone. As he clicked onto her text message inbox, he reminded himself that this was for her good. Whoever was sending her these text messages was seriously harming her. It was making it impossible for her to sleep and stressing her to the point of sickness. As a friend, he wanted to help her even if it meant that she never spoke to him again, but he hoped that she would realize that he was trying to help. The more he'd seen the case unfold, he'd started to wonder if whoever the killer was and whoever the anonymous sender was might be the same person. If they were, he needed to know who they were and why Ziva was protect them.

"But…" The word fell from his lips in a soft whisper as his mouth fell open at the sight of the name of the sender. He tossed the phone into the seat beside him, like it was a venomous snake that was going to bite him. Jaw set, he drove away with one thought on his mind; _I have to get this to Abby._

From the window of Ziva's apartment, the young dark haired woman watched Tony drive away as fast as he could. Hazel eyes narrowing, she closed the curtain and turned back to the front door, impatience flickering across her face. Tight blue jeans hugged her legs tightly, partially covered by the oversized gray hoodie that almost seemed to drown her small frame. The hood had been tossed back to show her wavy brown hair that had begun to frizz from the humidity. Dark circles lay under her eyes, masked slightly by her tan skin but that did little bit hide the exhaustion in her almost amber eyes. The air of feline grace around her was obvious as she began to pace, soundlessly. The only noise in the apartment was her cell phone, which she tapped against her hand every five seconds, counting away the minutes with the clapping of her phone hitting her palm.

_Clap; _five seconds.

A key slid into the lock with a painstaking slowness as the woman on the other side of the door sighed. Tears misted her eyes, blurring her vision to the point where it was almost hard to see the numbers on her apartment door. Thoughts clouded her mind in a swirl of confusion, making it almost hard to remember which way to turn the key. Pictures flashed through her head as she tried to turn the key. A giggling baby with a tuft or brown hair, little dark haired girl with a wide smile on her face, waving a crayon drawing, and a body, burned beyond recognition, lying on a metal table. Since she'd seen that body, she'd never gone into a morgue unless she absolutely had to. While she loved Ducky dearly, the biting memories made it impossible for her to go in their very often even just to talk with him.

_Clap; _ten seconds.

The clock opened with a click and the two women locked eyes, hazel meeting brown with mirrored expressions of shock. Moving as though she was in a dream, Ziva moved forward her chocolate eyes filled brimming with joyful tears. They stood inches apart, the smaller, tanner woman with tears streaming down her cheeks. With a clatter, the phone crashed to the floor, battery and back flying off to the side as the screen went black.

"I just can't believe it," they said in unison, laughing at the fact they did. "It's you."

* * *

Ancient trees stretched towards the sky, nearly barren branches acting as a canopy with only one or two leaves desperately hugging them. One of these leaves was ripped from its branch by a strong gust of wind, drifting down towards the two agents who stood over a body. Gibbs brushed the leaf from his silver hair as he picked his way through the knot of gnarled roots towards the body. A sickening mixture of blood and entrails littered the ground around him in a grotesque shape. Slash marks in the shape of X's had been cut into his stomach—allowing whoever had done this to rip out his insides. Blood and guts had been splattered out across the leaves into the shape of four letters: NCIS.

"How did they get him out of the morgue without anyone seeing?" McGee wondered aloud as he looked down at the destroyed carcass of Petty Officer Cooper, who had been somehow taken from the morgue. McGee reminded himself that Abby was searching the footage from the surveillance cameras to see who could have done it. So far, her search had turned up nothing since it seemed someone had managed to trick the cameras.

"Hey, McGeek," Tony said to him as he strolled into the clearing, nearly tripping over several roots in the process. The second time he stumbled, he accidentally squished a piece of Cooper's digestive system under part of his boot. Making a disgusted face, he walked away, hoping Gibbs wouldn't notice.

Gibbs' hand caught him in the back of the head harder than he'd expected and he stumbled forward, careful not to step on anymore of Cooper's spilled guts.

"Don't destroy evidence, DiNozo," Gibbs told him.

"Sor—" Tony began to say, until Gibbs cut him off again just like he had with the head-slap.

Gibbs stared down at him, almost emotionlessly. "Rule Number 6; never apologize—it's a sign of weakness."

Gibbs' phone began to buzz and he picked it up, nodding quietly as he listened to the person on the other end.

"Abby found something."

* * *

The picture of a young tan woman flashed onto the screen of Abby's computer, long dark hair cascading down around her shoulders. It exactly matched the black and white surveillance footage of a young woman walking out of the NCIS building. Dressed in a white blouse tucked into a gray pencil skirt, she looked like every other agent going into or out of the building. Only she wasn't, she was a killer; a monster. And from the texts on Ziva's phone, it was blatantly obvious that she was at Ziva's apartment.

"What have you got, Abs?" Gibbs asked, walking into her lab to see the forensic scientist's face much paler than usual. Some of her make-up had been smear, but she'd put on black lipstick and new eyeliner to put herself back together a little bit.

"Something that you won't believe," Abby told him solemnly as he set a Caf-Pow down beside her, but she ignored it. The amount of danger that her close friend was in made even Caf-Pows seem undesirable.

"What happened?"

Abby sighed and swallowed nervously, "I think that Ziva knows the killer and, because Tony dropped her phone off, I think that the killer is at Ziva's apartment right now."

"Who is the killer?" Gibbs asked.

"Her name is Tali David," Abby started. "But here's the part that doesn't make any sense, she supposedly died years ago; when she was sixteen years old. She died when a bus she was on was bombed and the body was burned beyond recognition, but the DNA testing identified her as Tali. She's Ziva's sister so why is she trying to kill her and what did she have against Petty Officer Cooper?"

Halfway through Abby's speech, Gibbs had picked up his phone and called Tony, telling him to get to Ziva's apartment as fast as he could with no questions asked.

* * *

**A/N: A huge thanks to dvd123, pirate-princess1, prince-bishop, NCIS Tiva Fan Forever, reio, and CityPlanetProductions for reviewing. Another thanks to the 12 people who favorited this story and the 29 people who are following it, you're so awesome. Just to let you all know, reviews make me write faster. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Wrong Number**

**Chapter Five**

* * *

"Tali…" the word fell form Ziva's lips in a strangled gasp as she started forward towards the younger woman. Her arms were wide, mirroring how her sister's arms were positioned when she collapsed into them. They held each other tightly, as though it would make up for the years that one had thought that the other was dead. Tears sprung from Ziva's glassy chocolate eyes like little droplets from pools of melted chocolate. With the younger girl held so tightly against her, Ziva could feel the defined muscle beneath her hoodie. She was far from the slight, fragile girl that the ex-Mossad agent had known for so long. This was a fighter; strong, fierce, and nothing like the Tali she'd known.

"How are you even alive?" Ziva asked, eyes wide with shock as she finally detached herself from her slightly shaking sister. Make-up ran down Tali's cheeks, streams of color against her tan skin. Concealer washed off of her cheeks, revealing the small, thin white scars that she'd worked so hard to hide. Foundation, concealer, blush, mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow, and nearly everything else she could find at make-up counters had gone into hiding who she really was. With a trembling had, Ziva reached out and wiped the coating of teary make-up goop that hid her little sister's face. Without her mask of cosmetics, Tali was a different woman. Not the fierce, dark-shade wearing agent who'd hidden her existence from one of the few people who cared about her. Not the girl who'd runaway when her boyfriend was shot in the head by the men who were after her. No, she was just a scared little girl with pleading hazel eyes. The same little girl that Ziva had said she would always protect.

"It's a long story," Tali sighed. She'd lost her accent long ago and, with her talent for learning languages, learned the ins and outs of English faster than her sister. Having started studying English younger than her sister, Tali had picked up the language so much faster than Ziva. Contractions flowed easily in her speech and idioms had been picked up long ago. "But I suppose we have plenty of time."

"Well, in the bombing that I supposedly died in I was mixed up with another sixteen-year-old girl named Noa Cohen. Something was mixed up in the hospital and because of the fact they had to operate on me because of severe burns to my face, her family assumed I was her. Skin grafts and facial reconstruction, you can see it still and I don't look much like I ever did before. During the bombing, I suffered head trauma and I was in a coma for three months. When I woke up I was eighteen and the doctors kept telling me that I was Noa Cohen. Pretending to be Noa, I was discharged from the hospital and finished high school, where Noa was a much better student than I was. All the while, I was looking for my family and I found out that you'd moved to the United States. I wouldn't talk to Dad, you know how he is. Mom was still heartbroken, so she was out of the question. Ari, well, he never really liked me and we didn't get along. But you were always nice to me, so I figured that I should go after you. I applied to and got into school in America, which was where I met Ethan. We dated for years and all the while he was in the Navy, which was something I never minded."

"Ethan?" Ziva asked when her sister paused to take a breath and drink from the glass of water her sister had gotten her when she arrived. "Petty Officer Ethan Cooper? The one who was murdered?"

"Yes, he was killed by the person who was after me because of some information I learned from our father a while ago. Don't worry about them, though, they've been…dealt with," Tali told him vague. A slight smile flickered across her lips and she wiped the droplets of that had spilled on her cheeks. "So, what happened to your hair? It's lighter than I remember, still dark and a bit curly but you don't look like I remember you."

"The last man I dated liked my hair best that way." Ziva confessed, feeling embarrassed even as the words started to form. She dropped her gaze down to the table and crosses her legs a little uncomfortably.

Tali snorted, leaning back with her slim finger wrapped tightly around the cold glass cup of water. Her hazel eyes twinkled with amusement, finding it funny that the sister she used to know was reduced to changing her hair color for a man. Ziva didn't dare to look up at her sister as she heard a musical little giggle escaped from her little sister's slightly parted lips. Her little sister leaned forward, set the glass down, and then began to laugh outright. It was a loud, higher pitched laugh as her body shook. A tear dripped out of the corner of her eye, which she quickly wiped away as she calmed down slightly.

"Ziva, when I saw you last you where the type of girl who would never let a man tell you what to do." Tali began, sincerity in her voice as she shook her head very slowly. "Now, I don't know if I know you anymore. But, I still love you. You're my sister and I will always love you, if only because of that. This change, it may not be for the best, but when a door closes a window opens. I hope you find that window soon."

"Thank you," Ziva replied quietly.

"And it's starting to look darker again, Zi-Zi," Tali giggled a little bit as she used her sister's childhood nickname.

"I told you never to call me that, Tal!" Ziva snapped in a childish fashion as she started incredulously at her little sister, hoping Tony never heard her sister call her that or he ould never stop.

* * *

Worry ate away at Tony's insides as he sped through another red light to yet another chorus of blaring car horns. His mind was racing faster than his car and he was really burning rubber getting from the forest where he'd been investigating to Ziva's apartment. The threat of danger to someone so close, made it hard for him to slow down the wild drag race of his thoughts that all charged towards one consensus. _If Ziva's hurt, I don't know how I'll forgive myself since it is my fault. I dropped her off there. She'll likely never forgive me either, she'll likely come after me even if she has to leave heaven just to kick my ass. _

More horns blared as he sped through a stop sign, glad he was lucky today and there seemed to be no police out. And if there were, they seemed not to realize he was breaking a great deal of traffic laws. Honestly, Tony couldn't care if anyone came after him he had to get to Ziva and he had to make sure that she was safe. He'd seen what her sister was capable of; murder, disembowelment, and destruction of already dead bodies. No doubt the fact it was her sister wouldn't stop her, but it would stop Ziva. Every time his partner talked about her supposedly dead younger sister, pain welled in her eyes even if tears had not.

"Hang on Z," Tony blew out a loud breath and began to gnaw on his lower lip. "I know she's your sister, but please fight back if she so much as lays a finger on you. I can't lose you again. First Ray, now death. C'mon Z. I want to be able to tease you again and point out when you make mistakes with idioms. Just one last chance to say your name in an annoying exaggerated fashion that you always roll your eyes at."

The road seemed to grow longer, almost impossibly, as Tony drove, pressing his foot harder down on the gas. No matter how fast he went, no matter how many reds he ran, or how many stop signs he raced through it was as though he just couldn't get there fast enough. Time slowed to molasses, making his progress impossibly gradual.

Finally, he slammed on the breaks outside Ziva's apartment and sloppily parked before racing inside, not caring how many people gave him strange looks. As he tore through the door, he failed to notice the sleek black car across the street with half rolled down tinted windows. Through them peered two faces—a man and a woman—who both appeared to be relatively young—definitely in their mid to late twenties. Sunlight danced across their matching olive complexions, highlighting an ugly white scar that ran from the right side of woman's jawline up to her hairline. Had it not been for the scar she would have been quite lovely with glowing amber-green eyes and pixie cut blonde hair. The scar was like an outbreak of weeds in an otherwise beautiful garden, it ruined it. Through the driver's side window, it was easy to see the beady eyes of the man that were nearly hidden behind his mop of black hair.

"Do we still wait?" the woman asked, leaning back into the car, pressing a finger down onto the button to send the window rolling up. She ran the other hand through her spikey hair, fingertips accidentally brushing the scar where it met her blonde spikes.

"Yes, she has to come out sometime," he man replied in a gruff voice as he too rolled up his window, rat-like eyes never moving from the front door of the apartment. "And when she does, we won't miss. They don't pay us to miss."

"Pity," the woman sighed. "She's so young, barely more than a girl. Terrible thing to kill that Navy boy, but collateral damage and all."

"If I didn't know you better," the man said with a smile, "I'd say you were going soft."

"Don't worry," she replied, hand going to the gun on her hip. "I'm anything but soft. And unlike you, I can actually make a bullet go where I want it to; right between that two-timing little bitch's eyes."

"That's what I love about you, you're so direct." The man laughed as he turned the key and started the car, taking them down the street to do a few rounds around the block. Staying parked for too long was far too conspicuous, he knew so every couple hours they would drive away for a little bit. Thirty minutes ago, the blonde woman had gone for coffee and the Starbucks cups lay empty on the floor. The smell of her Chai Latte, which had spilled all over the floor still hung heavy in the air like fog.

"You lie; that's what I hate about you."

"See? Blunt," he laughed as they peeled away from the curb oblivious to the drama inside of the apartment that they were watching, pertaining to the young woman they had been hired to silence forever.

* * *

Both Tali and Ziva had very different reactions when Tony broke down the front door to the apartment, trying to be the hero. He had forgotten that Ziva gave him a key a few months ago in case he ever needed it. Ziva was sitting in the living room at the time, watching some sappy movie that her younger sister had picked. It was supposed to make her feel better, but so far had only made her want to hit the actress in the lead role. The moment her door was broken down she went for the first thing she could find that remotely resembled a weapon, the lamp. Tali was in the kitchen, chopping up carrots and she'd tightened her grip on the knife before hurrying to make sure her sister was alright.

Tony's eyes widened as the knife buried itself in the wall only a mere few centimeters from his head. He'd forgotten one very key thing about the two girls he was now staring at who both looked very angry; they were Davids. If he knew that Ziva was scary, he was in for a surprise with Tali, who luckily didn't have as good aim with a knife as her sister.

"Whoa," Tony said, eyes going even wider than they already were. "I forgot how scary one David is. Two of them are surprisingly not two times worse, they're ten times worse."

Ziva rolled her eyes, setting down her lamp so it's back on the table.

"So is there another sister you forgot to tell me about?" Tony joked, earning an icy glare from both girls.

"Well, I hate to do this but Ziva I think that Tali killed Cooper and she might be putting your life in Danger," Tony began as he watched Ziva's face morph into an expression of horror as she froze, not knowing what to do. She'd had guns to her head, bombs in close proximity, and fire snapping at her heels, but this tore away her walls. This was a curve ball.

"Tali, you're under arrest for the murder of Petty Officer Cooper."

"First my phone now my sister, Tony. You're just taking everything from me, are you not?" Ziva snapped, her eyes burning like dark fires as she glared at him. If looks could kill, Tony would have been dead. He didn't reply, dropping his gaze and pretending as though tears weren't making the surface of his hazel-green eyes glassy.

* * *

**A/N: This might be the last chapter for a while. I'm leaving for Alaska soon and I return on the 7th of August. But I have a bit of time and I may be able to crank out another chapter. Reviews help me write faster and, speaking of reviews, thank you Zivatjl12, luzma, TayRay, pirate-princess1, TheC1197, EowynGoldberry, KaiaBlackrock, dvd123, prince-bishop, and NCIS Tiva Fan Forever for reviewing. You're all amazing. I hope you stick around for the remaining two chapter and then a sneak peek of my next NCIS story "The Hunter's Moon." **


	5. Chapter 5

**Wrong Number**

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Five hours had passed since the arrest of Tali David, leaving her sitting alone in the NCIS interrogation room as she waited. She looked impassive staring into the one way mirror as she did her hair with the brush she always kept in her purse. Hazel eyes unreadable she counted out as she ran the brush through her chocolate colored tresses, leaving soft waves in its wake. Not a whimper of fear nor a single tear escaped her as she stared nearly unblinkingly at whoever she guessed was watching her. The only thing that betrayed the remotest sign of emotion of the tiny twinkle in her eyes that conveyed a mischievous glint. Dressed simply in a tight fitting pair of black yoga pants and a loose fitting olive t-shirt, there was an air of lethality to her along with an almost yoga instructor vibe.

"It's been five hours, three minutes, and twenty seven seconds since you arrested me. Four hours, forty six minutes, and seven seconds since you locked me up in this room. It's not like I've had absolutely nothing to do or anything like that." Her voice was sweet as honey, but the venom behind the words was hard and nearly tangible. She smiled at the mirror, but it didn't reach her eyes. In fact, it looked more like an animal bearing it's teeth than a smile.

The door swung open, making the small Israeli woman jump in her seat before turning to face Agent Gibbs with her feral smile still plastered on her lips. Irritation had finally won the battle for her masked face and now danced in her eyes as a file was dropped on the table. It was open, showing pictures of the dead Petty Officer.

"If you know how long you've been here," Gibbs said. "Then I suppose you know who this is. And we want to know why you killed him."

Her laughter was a loud mocking sound that filled the room, bouncing off the walls as she threw her head back. It wasn't real laughter, it was a cruel and rude sound that sung of a dangerous fury hidden beneath the surface. Slowly, it died down to psychotic giggles before her eyes turned steely and frozen as she fixed them on Gibbs.

"The notion that I killed him is ridiculous"

"There's evidence."

"Isn't there always?" Tali sighed. "Look, all the rudeness and acting aside—I just love being dramatic at times—I did not kill him. Of course, I know this man. We've been dating for a very long time. I was even expecting a proposal before _they _shot him instead of me. Some people just have terrible aim, I swear. Not everyone is cut out to b—"

"They?" Gibbs interrupted her. "Who are they?"

"It's a long story," Tali argued as she fidgeted in her seat and pushed a strand of loose hair back behind her ear.

"And I've got nothing but time," Gibbs replied.

"A year ago, I got into a little bit of a tight spot when I gave someone information that was false. They were in a good deal of trouble because the false lead led to some…unpleasant…consequences. Instead of cutting their loses and moving on like a sane person, they hired someone and sent them after me figuring the blood wouldn't be on their hands. Literally, at least. There's been three different attempts on my life since that incident, including where they killed my boyfriend. I paid them off to leave me alone and tell their boss that they killed me. I still have their names if you need them. I'm not totally sure that it was them who killed him, but it would make sense even if the gun used to kill him isn't something either one of them normally uses." Tali explained, tears stinging at her hazel eyes as she bite harder down on her lower lip to keep from crying. A few droplets of blood stained her pearly white teeth a sickly looking pink.

"Could you give use their names before you leave?" Gibbs sighed, deciding it would be best to release Ziva's sister. The ex-Mossad officer was already furious at him for arresting her sister in the first place so if he held her longer than necessary, he feared what she might do to him.

"Could I write them down?" Tali asked, her voice tight and tears threatened to spill over as her mind wandered back to Cooper. Since she watched him die, she hadn't let herself cry. Growing up, she'd always been taught that tears were a sign of weakness and she wasn't allowed to cry. There'd only been one time when she'd cried and it had been when she was five, but she'd been punished for it as had her sister.

Gibbs quickly produced a piece of paper and she scrawled down their names in her loopy cursive before quickly leaving the room before anyone could see a tear slip down her cheek. She wiped it away as she hurried through the building, her pace getting faster with each step. Ziva barely caught a glimpse of her sister as she passed her. Sensing Tali's sadness, she took off in pursuit of her sister and trailed her all the way to outside the NCIS building. They'd taken the stairs instead of the elevator, something the ex-Mossad officer wasn't used to doing.

Sun shone through the dispersing storm clouds, sparkling on the puddles that dotted the parking lot. Twinkling drops flew the air as a car accelerated with a loud squeal of tiring fighting for a grip on the wet asphalt. Wrestling to keep her tears back, Tali wasn't paying attention as the now very conspicuous car as it hurtled straight towards her. Behind the wheel, a scarred blonde woman glared at her, eyes burning with anger.

"Tali!" Ziva cried, breaking into a run as she threw her arms out in an attempt to make a wild grab for her sister. The younger woman's eyes darted up, looking from her sister's frantic face to the car. Her legs stopped moving as she froze like a deer in the headlights. Luckily for her, Ziva was no deer and as she tackled her sister out of the way she looked more like a cat leaping on its prey.

As the car sped away, it was easy to hear cursing in a loud female voice along with the blare of a horn as she slammed her fist down onto the horn. Swerving wildly, the car careened into a pole and the alarm began to go off but ceased as the telephone pole crushed the car. The sickening grating of metal on metal filled the air with a harmony of the crunching of human bones being snapped and crushed.

* * *

Two new bodies lay on metal tables down in autopsy, the first was the crushed form of a blonde woman who's head was the only part of her visible out of the body bag. Beneath the bag, she was mangled and mashed. Ribcage crushed, there was an odd dent in the bag where her chest and stomach were due to the shattered bones. Her face had suffered almost as much damage as her chest had aside from being totally and utterly crushed. While her scar was noticeable, her cheekbones had been broken and the whole front of her face was sunken, cracked. Blonde hair splayed out around her head, like a golden halo stained with scarlet.

On the table beside her was an olive skinned man with short, dark hair who looked a little bit more intact than his partner. Unlike her, he'd been crushed from behind with everything on the backside of him getting smashed nearly flat. From a side view, he looked almost anorexic, bones crushed so much there wasn't nearly as much him as there had once been. Dull in death, his eyes stared hauntingly forward without really seeing. Around his rib area, portions of the body bag stuck up unnaturally. Broken ribs protruded through his skin, leaving shattered pieces of bone in his still lungs.

Ducky looked over the two of them. The cause of death was obvious; multiple survelliance cameras had witnessed it and he'd seen it played over again and again. In some ways, he thought, they were lucky. Identification had been run on the pair and while the man couldn't be found, the woman—presumably Alma Grier—had been charged with countless murders and attempted murders. The attempted murder of Tali David would have just been another name on her list if she'd survived. Death, he thought, would perhaps provide some semblance of peace for her.

* * *

Ziva frantically inspected her sister for any sign of injuries even though she'd already been looked over Ducky, twice on her insistence. Tony watched from five feet away, what he presumed was a safe distance. To him, it looked like a mother bear making sure that her little cub was alright. Only in this instance, the cub was nearly all grown up. This side of the aggressive Israeli was completely foreign to him. This side of her maternal and almost loving in ways that he'd never seen before; it was something he kind of liked in her,

"She's okay, right?" McGee asked as he walked into the women's bathroom with one hand over his eyes as the other remained stretched out in front of him so he could feel around. Tony, having very little concept of boundaries, hadn't spent much time worrying about the wrath of the female employees. He'd wait fifteen minutes before going in and had only done so with some prompting from Gibbs. Of course, he'd begged Abby to go but she was busy.

"…Yes…" Ziva replied slowly as she stepped away from her sister, who rolled her eyes in annoyance over the babying.

"I'm perfectly fine," Tali piped up, all eyes turning to her. "I can take a little bit of bruising and banging up after all. We do have the same father, Ziva. He made us tough and he made us strong, even if he did make us bitter and angry in the process."

Ziva sighed and ran a hand through her hair, looking a little bit worried but she shoved the feelings away to put on a bit of an irked expression.

After a moment of silence, McGee took a few certain steps and nearly walked face first into a wall; "I have some news."

"Well, spill it McTease," Tony snapped, a little short tempered from the fact that Ziva and her sister had nearly been run over by a car. So much anxiety had been poured into so few days that the whole team had nearly reached their breaking points. Even though who weren't directly in the middle of it had felt the strain on the rest of the team. Only Gibbs remained seeming unaffected as he withdraw slightly from the group, acting more aloof than usual.

"There's someone here to see Tali. He says that his name is Andrew Mason. He's the son of the Julia Mason who saw the body of Petty Officer Cooper out on the lawn and he was friends with Cooper. I wouldn't have come in here, but…he's been very insistent and he's starting to get a bit loud." McGee explained as the sound of shouting drifted through the closed wooden door to the women's bathroom. It was masculine, deep and laced with a great deal of anger as it drew closer and closer.

Finally, there was a knock that made Ziva bristle like a somewhat spooked cat, the hair on the back of her neck prickling.

"Tal, babe," the voice was softer but still heated with anger as another light taps on the door came, the impatience obviously growing. McGee tried to move away from the noise of knocking, only succeeding in bumping into the sinks. Tony, who normally would have come up with comedy gold over the blunder, said nothing. His typically joking air had vanished, suppressed by the nerves emanating from Tali.

"Hey, Andrew," she responded shakily after a momentary pause.

When a reply came, the voice was harsh and angry: "Who are you in there with you tramp?! Another man? Like when I found you with that Ethan Cooper idiot. You cheating—"

"We were broken up!"

"Yeah?" Andrew snarled, throwing open the door. "You sure didn't act like it and I don't remember you saying anything like that but then you were sucking face with that Cooper idiot!"

"Maybe because you were drunk," Tali said somewhat quietly.

"Maybe I was drunk when I put a bullet between his eyes!" This comment left the room completely silent and stunned.

* * *

**A/N: First off, I must apologize to my loyal readers who I made wait so long. For me, there's been a variety of homework and vacations which have made life hectic, but that's just excuses so I should get to the thanking. An enormous thanks to TayRay, EowynGoldberry, NCIS Tiva Fan Forever, Robern, and prince-bishop for reviewing! Sadly, there's only an epilogue/sixth chapter after this before it's over. **


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